Jungle Sniper

Начало книги

Lying in the hole, staring out into the tropical night, Deacon Cole kept his eyes focused on the darkness and his finger on the trigger.

Anchored to the earth, he was like a creature of the forest. Each one of his senses felt alive. A rivulet of salty sweat ran down his face and stung his eye. He blinked it away. A breeze touched his cheek, carrying the smell of the jungle — decay mixed with the sickly sweet fragrance of a night-blooming vine that was almost like the honeysuckle back home. He heard singing insects and the distant snap of a twig.

The last sound served as a reminder that Deke and the rest of Patrol Easy weren’t alone.

Somewhere out in that dark jungle were hidden Japanese soldiers — maybe hundreds of them. They wouldn’t stay hidden for long. It was only a matter of time before they launched one of their nighttime sneak attacks. When they did, Deke and his rifle would be ready for them. He stroked the smooth metal of the Springfield 1903A sniper rifle’s trigger, eager to shoot the first Japanese that he saw. Maybe it was his imagination, but the rifle felt alive in his hands, just as ready as he was to send a well-placed bullet drilling through the darkness.

Читать дальше →